Harry Potter and the Crimson Tears
by DrenchedInMyPainAgain
Summary: Harry Potter just lost the only family he's ever known. This story is set after Harry Potter and the Order of Phoenix. Things are different. Warning: Contains depression and cutting, possible suicide attempt.
1. Chapter 1

I own none of the Harry Potter characters. This story is set after Harry Potter and the Order of Phoenix. During the summer. Things happen much differently.

"SIRIUS!" Harry yelled "SIRIUS!"

Sirius had just fallen through the veil, and Harry was screaming his name. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a hand and soon an arm, and then Siruis reappearing from the veil. Harry was relieved. All he could see was his Godfather. No one else mattered. He walked towards his only family, and saw a clear blue tear sliding down sirius's cheek. Harry reached up and tried to brush it away, but his hand went right through Siruis. Harry could do nothing more than cry with despair.

He awoke with a shudder. His bed was drenched in sweat. It had happened again. Harry Potter had just had another nightmare about his Godfathers death. He climbed out of bed and stumbled for his glasses. Although it was 3:13 a.m., Harry was wide awake. He had been having these nightmares since that day. That day. It had a place in his imagination now. It teased him. Taunted him. Told him it was his fault. Harry stumbled out of bed and quietly out his door. Carefully he creaked across the hallway and into the bathroom. Stepping into the bathroom, he didn't dare turn on the light. He opened the top drawer, and felt just under the counter, his fingers coming across a small metal object taped to the top. Harry unpeeled the sharp blade and put it in his pocket. Before turning, he caught a glimpse of his own reflection in the mirror. The boy he saw looked nothing like the Harry Potter everyone knew. Harry himself couldn't recognize himself; he was painfully thin, his face was pale and gaunt, and he looked as if the slightest wind would topple him over. But thats not what would have scarred people, that night at 3:14 in the morning. The look in his eyes was one not only of determination, self loathing and depression. But Harry Potter's eyes held a message for only one person, himself. He wanted himself to suffer for killing his Godfather.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Harry awoke again, this time peacefully in his bed. A dull throbing on his left wrist had lulled him into a deep sleep and he did not dream of Sirius. He dreamt of nothingness. Harry loved the feeling. For the next few hours, Harry had done the usual routine; nothing. He wasn't expecting anyone or anything, after all the Dursley's left him alone out of fear for his 'kind', as they put it. Harry was glad, after all he wanted nothing too do with them either. But something was different about this day. Not that Hedwig was out hunting, or even that the sun wasn't shining. That day, Harry knew. He wasn't going to punish himself any longer. He was going to do what he should have done in the first place. He should have ended it all. The boy who lived was going to kill himself.

Meanwhile, Dumbledore knew something was up. Hermione and Ron had both reported too him that Harry hadn't written letters or made contact with them since he returned too the Dursleys. Dumbledore was going to send a letter to warn Harry of his coming, but instincts told him not to wait any longer. So with a single clap, Dumbledore had apparated to Privet Drive.

Read and review. I know it sucks (


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The darkness blinded Dumbledore at first, but his other senses kicked in and he smelled blood. A lot of blood. As his eyes grew acustomed to the dark, he made out a lamp and turned it on. He turned around slowly, knowing, yet not wanting too know. Harry Potter, was lying unconcious on the ground surrounded in his own blood. Dumbeldore gasped, and quickly rushed to the desperate boys side. Not knowing any healing spells, he did the only thing he could. He took of his cloak and wrapped it around the boys arm as tight as he risked. Panicking, he thought to take her to Madam Pomfrey, but realized she was still away on a holiday. He needed someone who knew a blood replenishing potion and experience in this matter. He needed someone, anyone. He needed Snape.

In a dimly lit room, a very greasy Severus Snape sat in a chair, sipping tea occasionally and reading a very large, musty book. All of a sudden, Dumbledore appeared in the room and Snape saw a small, unkept boy rapped in rags in his arms.

"Dumbledore... too what do I owe the pleasure?" Snape said somewhat snidely.

Without saying a word, Dumbledore set Harry down on the couch and unwrapped the cloak.

"I'm afraid there has been an incident. An incident in which I gravely need your assistance."

Snape said nothing, but walked briskly to the other room, fetched a potion and went about his work.

Fifteen minutes later, Harry was tucked neatly into bed, in clean clothes with his arm stiched and his face ever so pale. The two elder men watched the young boy sleep, and wondered what has happened to there young hero.


	4. Chapter 4

Please review. Flames are welcome. I want to know if I should continue or not. I wont write more until I get some reviews. Or, maybe I will write more and I just wont post them! Because in one day I got 42 hits, but 1 review! ( That makes me kinda sad. So please review. )


	5. Chapter 5

Slowly, the fallen boy's eyes blinked open. As his head cleared, he panicked. No one was in the room at the time, but he didn't recognize his surroundings. Worse yet, bright white bandages were wrapped around his wrists and arms. 'What happened… why am I here" Harry tried to recall his last memory, and it came flooding back to him in a rush. He began to breath heavily. Struggling to sit up, he ripped the covers from his body. His shirt had disappeared, but his pants and socks were still on. He ran from the room, and right into a great ball of grease. Snape. Harry fell to the ground, wincing in pain, he clutched his arm.

"What's going on?" Harry exclaimed.

Severus looked rather alarmed. The sleeping potion he had given Harry should still have been in affect. Dumbledore had left; he had an errand to attend too.

Harry managed to stand again, and glared at Snape. He tried to walk around the greasy git but he blocked his way.

"It appears, Mr. Potter, that you have some bad habits. Habits, which have landed you here, in the comfort of my own, student-free, home." Snape sighed somewhat dramatically.

"Well I'm not here by choice, Snape, so why don't I let myself out?" Harry glared at his professor. And venom seemed to leak from his voice, when he said his name.

"That's Professor Snape, Potter, and I won't tell you again." Snape didn't like his attitude, or his lack of respect.

Harry said nothing. He quickly maneuvered himself around Snape's unkempt frame and towards a great oak door. A simple spell locked the door, and Harry spun around. 

"You can't keep me here against my will! Now let me out or I'll-"

"YOU'LL WHAT POTTER?" Snape couldn't help but chuckle. "Hurt yourself again? Run away? Curse me? Go ahead and try."

Harry realized that Snape was not about to let him out of his home, and since he had no wand, cursing him was out of the question. So he did the only thing he could think of. He slumped down against the wall, covered his face with his hands and began to shank violently.

A twinge of pity ran through Snape's body as he observed the broken boy before him. Granted, his home life wasn't as he would have expected the boy who lived to have.

Harry laughed. "The boy who lived? MORE LIKE THE BOY WHO WASN'T ALOUD TO DIE!"

Now it was Snape's turn to panic. How did Harry learn to read his mind? Or had he said that out loud? He looked at the young boy in awe, and shock. For the first time, he actually looked at him. And this time he didn't see Harry's father, James. He saw a boy, with the weight of the world on his shoulders. He was crumbling, breaking, and no one had noticed. It was then that Snape decided he would try to help the young hero. It would take an intense desire to live, and a willingness to cooperate, but Snape was sure that he and Dumbledore, and all his little friends could get through to this broken spirit.


End file.
